


This He Would Protect

by MianaK3791



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Book Jaime wouldn't have done this, Cersei is the worst, F/M, Introspection, post-episode s08e04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 14:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18740512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MianaK3791/pseuds/MianaK3791
Summary: Brienne was too perfect, too precious, too good for someone like him, which made him love her all the more.It made what he knew he had to do far worse.------The Post ep4 feelings dump





	This He Would Protect

**Author's Note:**

> This is an incredibly rushed whirlwind of emotions and feelings after last night's episode, and the only way my poor heart can even comprehend what's going on. I hope you are all on this downward tumble of emotions with me.

_“I’m happy that you’re happy.”_

It was a state of being that Jaime hadn’t felt in a long time; happy.  It almost felt foreign to him.  Happy to be alive.  Happy that his brother was alive.  Happy that they were victorious against an impossible army of the dead.  Happy to be with Brienne.

Oh, _Brienne_. 

Happy that the woman he had loved since he jumped into a bear pit hadn’t rejected him.  Happy that she felt the same. 

And then Bronn had come with his fucking crossbow and of course – _of course_ – it couldn’t last. 

Cersei hadn’t just sent the man to kill Tyrion; she had sent him after _both_ of them.  The woman that he had loved – the woman that had held his heart for most of his life, had given birth to his children, and whom he had done so, so many atrocities for – had paid for his death. 

It stung, but he was not surprised.  Cersei was always a jealous, hateful woman who would go to whatever lengths to get what she wanted.  The same woman, whom he once thought a good, kind person, had admonished him for letting a crippled boy live instead of murdering in his sleep. 

_The things I did for love._

He didn’t need her anymore.  She would always be a part of him, yet he wanted to be happy.  And happiness now was not with her. 

Even as Bronn kept the arrow of the crossbow pointed at his head, Jaime could only think of Brienne.  He did not live through fighting off a dead army just to be shot by a sellsword.  His future with Brienne would not be limited to just a handful of days. 

That was assuming Cersei hadn’t sent Bronn after Brienne as well. 

Once the man and his goddamn crossbow were gone, Jaime sprinted back to the castle with his heart in his throat.  Bronn had walked into Winterfell with no resistance; who was to say that he hadn’t gone after Brienne first?  A message from Cersei, no doubt, reminding Jaime that his happiness didn’t matter.

He reached her room, terrified of what he might find inside.  He prepared himself for blood – so much blood – and paused.  What if Bronn wasn’t the only one sent?  What if someone was still inside waiting, or worse?  He cursed himself for having left his sword in her room – their room? – and opened the door as quietly as he could.

No arrow greeted him in the face, no sword slipped into his belly, and there was no pool of blood surrounding his love.  There was just Brienne seated near the fire.  She was bent over some ancient book and looked up as he closed the door with a click.

“It’s still polite to knock,” Brienne chided, trying to give a disapproving frown but letting a smile slip through instead. 

Jaime felt his fear unclench as he crossed the room and bent down to capture her lips in a kiss.   

Later as she fell asleep in his arms, Jaime lay awake making plans.  He would need to ask Tyrion to have guards follow her just in case Cersei had paid others to target her.  Perhaps even have the patrols pay special care to her room.  He couldn’t tell Pod; that boy wouldn’t lie to her for anything and would tell her in an instant.  The same if he alerted Lady Sansa.   

He looked over her sleeping form – her pale hair, the scars on her face, her incredibly full lips, and swore yet another oath.

This – _this_ – he would protect with his life. 

 

* * *

 

As usual, Cersei had to ruin everything. 

They had been too happy; several weeks after the halls of Winterfell emptied of all of its armies, horses, Lord and dragons, a sense of almost normality return to the castle.  The masons and builders – those who remained, at least - continued to rebuild all that was damaged in the battle.  Jaime helped train soldiers in the yard, and Brienne remained at Lady Sansa’s side.  They kept busy with their tasks and schedules during the days, but the nights were theirs to treasure.

He remained vigilant incase Cersei had sent any other men after himself or Brienne; she had remarked about the noise of the extra patrols past their door at night but thus far still remained oblivious to Bronn’s threats. 

And then that fucking raven had come from the south. 

A dragon dead.  A portion of their fleet gone.  The queen’s closest confidant captured.  Cersei had outsmarted and out maneuvered them before they could even set foot in the south.

Jaime had tried to remain out of it all; part of his agreement to Lady Sansa was that he would be welcome at Winterfell so long as he did not take part in any military planning or discussion.  Just in case there was even a chance that his loyalties still lay in the south, she had explained.  He knew it was moreso to ease the other lords who were still testy about a Lannister being around, and he honestly didn’t mind.  Cersei had chosen her path, and he had chosen his. 

But now…

Cersei had the upper hand and she knew it.  By their estimate, Jon and the rest of their forces were still weeks away from Dragonstone.  She now apparently had the means to kill a dragon, so there was absolutely nothing stopping her from sweeping through what remained of Daenerys’ forces, launching the well-rested Golden Company at Jon and the rest of an army who had just marched halfway across Westeros, and eliminating every single flame of resistance that was left.  She would win.

And then she would turn her eyes to Winterfell. 

They had fought an army of the dead and barely lived.

Cersei would raze Winterfell from the map and would not rest until every last Stark, Targaryen, wolf, and dragon were eliminated from history. 

And, especially because of him, she would made sure that Brienne suffered and died a slow and painful death. 

They could run; he could grab Brienne and run far away from Winterfell, run as far away from Cersei’s reach as was humanly possible, and just continue to be happy.  But his wench – his absolutely stubborn, brilliant, loyal-to-a-goddamn-fault wench, would never agree to run.  She would hate that the thought even crossed his mind.  Brienne was too perfect, too precious, too _good_ for someone like him, which made him love her all the more. 

It made what he knew he had to do far worse. 

 

* * *

 

He took his time making love to her that night.  He wanted to remember every inch of her; the shape of her legs, the scent of her hair, the feel of her warmth around him, and the timbre of her voice as she breathed his name.  He kissed her deeply; no longer the rough clashing as they had done the first time but now the soft, lingering pulls of a man committing her taste to memory.  He did not deserve her in any sense, and the past few weeks had been a greater gift than he could have ever asked for. 

But he needed to go.  He needed to protect what he loved. 

After she was asleep, he slipped quietly out of bed and began to dress and pack.  He had been debating with himself all day whether or not he should tell her he was going; on one hand, she deserved to know.  She deserved an explanation and a proper goodbye. 

On the other, she would probably try to make him change his mind.  Or far worse, she would try to come with him. 

There was no one on earth that he would rather have by his side – where she belonged – but he was walking into the lion’s den.  To get to Cersei, he could not worry about her.  Cersei knew that there was a connection between them, and she would immediately know that the quickest way to hurt him was to hurt Brienne. 

He could not allow that.  He _would not_ allow that.  And while he wished with every fiber of his being that he could come back and beg her forgiveness, he also knew that the chances of him returning at all were near impossible.

As he sat in front the fire and looked over her sleeping form, he hated himself.  He hated that he was yet another man to use her and then break her heart.  He hated that he would have to slip away like one of those men who took their pleasure and then left before sunrise.  She had been so used to men disappointing her; men mocking her for her looks, mocking her for her skills, mocking her for wanting to become something bigger than herself.  Men flirted with her just for jest or for bets as to who could steal her maidenhead.  She was incredibly slow to trust, yet once her trust was earned, she would stand by it. 

She had thought he was making fun of her the night that he had knighted her – Lord knows he had teased her enough about it that of course she didn’t believe how sincere he was.  It had taken so much for her to kneel before him and understand that he was actually giving her what she had dreamed about for years, and Jaime could not have been prouder of her in that instant. 

He should have taken her to bed that instant; lord knows he wanted to, yet he still was too much of a coward to do so.  It had taken an army of the dead and copious amounts of wine for him to even _attempt_ to kiss her.  He had not wanted to push her too far and break what trust he had earned with her.  Instead, she had given him everything.  Given him what he needed and wanted. 

She had given him _her_.     

And now he was going to up and leave her in the middle of the night.     

He hated how his conscience sounded like her voice as it rang in his ear, echoing one word; “ _Coward_.”     

He was not a good man.  He had done far too many evil things in this world to ever deserve the likes of her.  And yet he had wanted to be better for her.  She had made him believe that he _could_ be better.

It’s why he loved her so much.  And it’s why he had to protect her at all costs. 

 

* * *

 

Of course she caught him trying to leave.  It took everything in him to keep his voice sounding indifferent.  It took everything when she took his face in her hands and saw better in him than he ever could.

“You’re a good man and you can’t save her.” 

It took everything to not take her into his arms when her voice broke as she begged.

“Stay with me.  Please.”

_Stay_.

Gods knew he wanted to.  He wanted nothing more than to kiss away the tears that had begun to slide down her cheeks, burrow himself in her arms, and never let go. 

But he couldn’t let Cersei hurt her.  And he hated himself for how much he knew that she was about to be hurt by him.  But she couldn’t follow him.  As much as he loved her, he needed to make sure that she wouldn’t follow.    

“You think I’m a good man.  I pushed a boy out a tower window.  Crippled him for life.  For Cersei.  I strangled my cousin with my own hands, just to get back to Cersei.  I would have murdered every man, woman, and child in Riverrun for Cersei.  She’s hateful, and so am I.”

He expected her to yell at him.  He half expected her to hit.  Instead, her sobs hurt him more than any blow she could have dealt. 

He hated himself as he pushed away and mounted his horse and he hated himself more with every sob that left her lips.  He rode quickly out of the courtyard, doing everything in his power to not look back at the woman he loved.  The woman who had mended his heart, made him believe he was worthy of love again, and whose own heart he had just shattered into a million pieces.   

He waited until he was far beyond Winterfell’s gates before he let out a painful sob and let his own tears come.  He would never forgive himself for what he had just done to Brienne.  The only thing that mattered now was to make sure she was safe. 

He would go to King’s Landing.  He would find his sister and make sure that she couldn’t hurt Brienne.  He would make sure that Cersei could never hurt anyone ever again. 

_The things I do for love_.       

  

 

 

 


End file.
